


Amaurotine Etiquette

by Ophelia_Belle



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Aether Vibrator, Emet-Selch is a gentleman, F/M, Ladies first, Light BDSM, Shameless Smut, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 03:15:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20959535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ophelia_Belle/pseuds/Ophelia_Belle
Summary: Emet-Selch is a gentleman. The Warrior of Light decides to give him a challenge of teaching her proper manners, however he has some lessons of his own.





	Amaurotine Etiquette

**Author's Note:**

> I had the idea for this after rewatching a cutscene and realizing that despite everything, Emet-Selch is a gentleman.

The Warrior of Light, Ophelia, wandered through the Crystarium. The dull whisper of its citizens gave it life. The Crystarium had attracted many new visitors from other locales in Norvrant, hoping to see the night sky. They wanted to witness for themselves the miracle brought forth by the mighty Warrior of Darkness.

She followed the chatter to the markets. Like any city, the markets were the heart. Even at this late hour, the markets were bursting with activity. Ophelia watched people of all types making bargains and trading goods. She remembered that she had some items on her Chocobo that she needed to bring here in the morning to exchange for more gil.

She scanned the area, looking for a quiet corner to relax and reflect upon her travels. However, every ilm of the market was abuzz. _ Too many people. _ Ophelia continued walking through the markets to the small tavern nearby. There were a few patrons in there enjoying drinks. For it being late at night, it was pretty quiet. It seemed like an excellent place to reflect on her experience. At least it did until she saw a certain slouched man at a table to one side.

Emet-Selch looked horribly out of place in the tavern. About a half dozen diverse patrons were scattered around drinking ale, wearing various combinations of adventuring garb. To the side sat the condescending Ascian in his fancy clothes, sipping a glass of red wine. 

The knot in her chest tightened. She thought that she might be able to sneak out before he noticed her, however his golden eyes met hers and a gloved hand motioned for her to join him.

Crossing the tavern, Ophelia scanned the rest of the room for _ anyone _ who she could claim she was meeting that evening. Alas she saw no one. The twins and Minfilla were too young, Urianger didn’t drink, and Thancred preferred to drink alone. 

Emet-Selch stood slowly and pulled out a chair across from him and motioned for her to sit. Ophelia looked at him with a questioning glance as he remained standing.

He cleared his throat, “In polite circles, the man assists a lady with sitting.”

“But, I have no trouble sitting on my own,” Ophelia protested.

“Please sit,” Emet-Selch said annoyed and watched Ophelia struggle, sitting awkwardly in her healer’s gear as Emet-Selch gently nudged her up to the table, “Then again I guess in polite circles people don’t wear dirty armor into a fine drinkery.”

“I’m sorry Your Radiance, Solus zos Galvus, Emperor of Garlemald, what would you prefer a poor adventurer as myself wears in the company in the presence of an esteemed man such as yourself?” If he was going to dish out the insults, she was at least going to meet his challenge.

“Get comfortable,” he said.

Ophelia paused for a moment and used a glamour spell to turn her heavy robes into a simple red dress with a black corset to emphasize her tiny waist, “Is this suitable?”

Emet-Selch nodded in approval, “What would the lady like to drink?”

Ophelia thought through her options. Typically she would go for a light ale, something with a light crisp flavor, not too bitter. However, she didn’t feel like listening to Emet-Selch chide her about her unrefined tastes in ale. “I’ll try what you’re having.”

Emet-selch snapped his fingers and a glass of red wine appeared in front of Ophelia. She began to take a long deep drink.

“By Zodiark,” he held his face in his hands, “You were a ward of a nobel house in Ishgard and you don’t even know the proper way to drink wine?”

Ophelia considered throwing the rest of her glass in his face. However she thought better of it. She had an idea of a way to keep the troublesome Ascian busy.

“No I’m afraid I don’t,” Ophelia shook her head, “You know it appears that there is a lot that I don’t know about manners in upper class society? Perhaps you could teach me tonight?” 

His face lit up. His voice raised by an octave in excitement, “Yes! That’s right the hero comes to the Ascian of all people for lessons on how to behave in the company of...betters. I thought my time here on the First was going to be quite boring, but you my dear are ever a surprise.”

“Are you sure you are willing?” Ophelia asked this question as she polished off her glass of wine, leaning back and placing her boots on the table. She watched Emet-Selch’s face twist in horror knowing her boots have stomped in a delightful array of bodily fluids and flesh. She gave him a smile, “I think I’m going to need some more wine.”

With a snap, Emet-Selch refilled her glass, “Okay before you drink, hold the glass like this.” He gripped the glass towards the bottom with his gloved hand. 

Ophelia watched and moved her hand closer to the base, “Like this?”

He nodded approvingly. He began to lightly swirl his wine in his glass and inhaled, then took a very small sip. “Wine isn’t some beverage for drunkards. Sure it can be intoxicating, but that’s not the point. Take time to savor and enjoy it. Smell it. Take a small taste. Decide if you like it.”

Ophelia followed his instructions. She felt silly doing this in the middle of a tavern. She kind of wished that she was someplace with less people to watch and judge her.

“Emet-Selch,” she said his name quietly, “I’m a bit nervous here where everyone can see me.”

He nodded, “Where do you propose we go?”

“My quarters,” Ophelia slapped her hands over her mouth. She couldn’t believe that she said that aloud. 

Emet-Selch quietly laughed to himself, “I’d hardly think of that as proper, but by all means if you feel more comfortable in the privacy of your chambers, let’s go there.”

He snapped his fingers and disappeared. No one in the tavern seemed to notice that this man had suddenly disappeared. She left a stack of gil on the table for the barkeep and crossed the lawn separating the bar from The Pendants. She tried not to look like she was too eager to return to her quarters. The room attendant gave her a polite nod as she entered her room.

Her table, which ordinarily had sandwiches from the exarch and a pitcher of water was unrecognizable to her. On the table, an ornate white tablecloth covered the surface. Ophelia could see a gorgeous white brocade decorating the edges. The table was set with a large floral centerpiece and two plates across from each other with more cutlery than she knew existed. Napkins folded like intricate birds rested on the fine, gold lipped plates.

Emet-Selch approached Ophelia and politely took her small hand in his gloved one and gave it a polite kiss. Stepping back he turned his head and snapped her woolen dress into a finer one made out of silk. Another snap placed her long hair into an ornate updo. He gestured with a polite bow and led her to the table. Once again he helped her sit and then took his seat opposite from her.

He cleared his throat, “This is a formal dinner. With any noble family or dignitary you should have dined like this at least once.”

Ophelia nodded, “Yes I have, but I never knew what to do and because of who I am, no one ever dared to correct me.”

“Why would they? You’re the Warrior of Light, their savior. Why correct you when they owe their lives to you? You may be a warrior, but that doesn’t mean you have to behave like one in formal settings.”

Ophelia looked at all of the silverware before her, “Emet-Selch, I have to admit this is quite impressive, but there is no way I could eat a meal right now.”

“I understand,” with a snap most of the silverware disappeared, leaving only a small spoon. “Then let us eat only the best course. For a full meal, you’d just work your way inwards with your silverware.

Emet-Selch gestured to the ornately folded napkin. Ophelia picked it up and moved it to the side. He cleared his throat and motioned for Ophelia to place the napkin in her lap.

Once her plate was clear of her napkin, he snapped his fingers and a small, crystal bowl of vanilla custard appeared. Ophelia picked up the bowl and eagerly began to dig in, but looked across the table to see Emet-Selch slowly using his spoon to scoop up the creamy dessert to his lips. Ophelia slowed down to match his pace.

“Am I doing this right?” she asked.

“Hero, yes, just don’t act like a goobbue and you’ll be fine,” Emet-Selch yawned. He thought this was going to be more interesting.

Ophelia finished off the custard. Licking the bottom of the bowl to annoy him. She watched him to see him roll his eyes. However, he didn’t roll his eyes. He noticed that they were intensely locked onto hers. A small smile graced his lips. “What?” she asked him.

“What is the real reason why you invited me back here to your chambers?” his voice had dropped low, his golden eyes stared into her.

“I just didn’t want to do this in front of everyone,” she looked at him in a panic, “I didn’t want to be seen with you.” She didn’t expect that last part to come out.

“Why? We’re just two allies enjoying a polite drink and having a conversation on etiquette...unless,” his grin grew wider, “you want to learn bedroom etiquette as well?” He stood up and walked slowly to Ophelia’s chair and placed his hand on her shoulder. Her eyes widened as her mouth lightly opened. She took a deep breath as she felt the heat rush through her body.

Ophelia looked away, hoping that he wouldn’t see the desire building in her eyes. Gods it had been awhile.

“If you should choose to have this additional etiquette lesson with me, it is strictly on Amaurotine bedroom etiquette, you won’t find anyone else who practices this outside of the Ascians,” he trailed a white gloved finger down her neck, brushing light blue hair behind her shoulder. His lips followed his finger down, planting small kisses down her delicate neckline.

She nodded, eager to see what was to come.

“First things first,” Emet-Selch said helping Ophelia out of her chair. He snapped his fingers and Ophelia found herself covered in a heavy robe with a mask covering half her face, “If I’m teaching you Amaurotine bedroom etiquette I need you to look the part.” With a second snap, Ophelia watched through the eye holes to see his dress change into a familiar Ascian robe with a red mask to cover his face. 

Emet-Selch led Ophelia to her bed, “I want you to know that Amaurotine love making is an experience and while there are parts of which I cannot privy to you, I will do my best with the parts your mortal body can withstand.” With a hand he gently laid her down on her back, tugging her robe down, allowing her to be completely covered, “the first rule, my dear, is ladies first.”

At that Emet-Selch placed one claw at her ankles and began to draw it up her leg. He allowed that sharp point to trace lightly up her calves and down her thighs, “Right now, just relax and focus on the feeling, I want you to block everything out of your mind and focus only on my touch, and our breathing.”

Ophelia found herself matching Emet-Selch’s breath, feeling their bodies beginning to synch. She felt her muscles go limp as she entered a state of total relaxation. However that relaxation was short lived. Emet-Selch was beginning to work her robe slowly up her body, kissing his way behind it. His lips trailed light kisses up her thighs. Ophelia parted her legs to invite him to taste her. She could feel him shake his head, “Now now hero, did I not tell you this is an experience? I can’t go straight to dessert here, I need to at least sample all the other courses. However, if you’d like for me to sample what you have to offer me, then by all means it would be rude of me to refuse. Let’s see, the first rule of tasting is to look at what is being presented.”

Ophelia sat still as she felt Emet-Selch part her labia and use the back of one claw to trace through the valleys between her legs. The steel felt cold against her hot flesh. She could feel him purposely avoiding her clit. “The second step is to smell the aroma, and my dear you smell simply delicious. Finally, if I may, I’d like to take a taste,” his tongue made direct contact with Ophelia’s clit, sending her hips into the air to meet his touch. “I must say, this is a marvelous display and I shall be eager to try it out fully by the end of the night, but for now let us continue.” He continued to work her robes up her body, continuing to kiss slowly. As he neared her hip bones he sunk his teeth into her flesh.

Ophelia let out a deep moan, sending her hands into his hair and pulling him in harder as he sunk his teeth in deeper. As he pulled away he briefly flashed a charming smile in her direction and began to alternate between light kisses and bites up her body until he had uncovered the beautiful peaks of her bosom. He had been sitting to her side, but upon reaching her chest he flipped over and straddled her. Ophelia could feel a growing erection under his robe. She tilted her pelvis, grinding her clit against his cock.

Emet-Selch raised his hips to dodge her advances and cautioned her against this act, “Now now dear, being greedy is rude, you need to accept all I have to offer you and not try to skip ahead. Now I hate this, but the rules state that I shall have to discipline you.”

Ophelia gulped and looked at him wide eyed through her mask, “Discipline me?”

“Yes, you were naughty, you were suggesting that _ my _ pace is not satisfactory,” he said this with a smirk. He was clearly hoping she would falter, “stand up hero.”

Ophelia rose, robes falling back down over her bare body. Emet-Selch caught them before they fell and lifted them over her head. The chill of the room sent goosebumps up and down Ophelia’s naked body. Instinctively, she gripped her arms and rubbed to warm herself.

Emet-Selch grabbed her hands, “Place your hands on the bed and raise your buttocks into the air.”

Even behind the mask her raised eyebrow and a curious glance could be seen. However Ophelia followed his instructions. Almost immediately, she heard a sharp _ thack _and felt a sharp burn on the back of her thighs. The pain happened again, then once more. Ophelia whimpered but to her surprise she found herself pushing back towards him, wanting more. 

Emet-Selch swiftly lifted up Ophelia and stood her before him, caressing her bare chest with a gloved hand, “hero, I can’t have your Elezen attendant outside hearing us,” with a snap heavy crimson drapes cascaded from the ceiling, draping every inch of the room, insuring their noises would belong to them and them alone, “I find it better to block the sound than muffle it, because my dear I love your screams.”

Once again Emet-Selch laid Ophelia back on the bed and positioned himself straddling her. He attempted to push his hardened member against her, but to his disappointment she wouldn’t move. Amused, he continued, biting her nipples with his mouth and tugging on them, causing his favorite hero to cry out in pleasure.

Out of instinct she bucked her hips into him, thrusting her pelvis into his groin, grinding to relieve the pain that she felt.

“Hero, Hero, “ Emet-Selch shook his head, “What terrible manners, suggesting that _ I _ am not doing my job to please a mere mortal such as yourself? This is where your weakness is evident. Do you know how long a typical Amaurotine love making would take? A month of your typical time here on this miserable rock, I’ve been here pleasuring you for just a few minutes, please learn to control yourself and prove to me that you are more than a savage mite.”

His words should have infuriated Ophelia. However, she found herself determined to convince the Ascian of her worthiness, “I’m sorry that I’m weak. It’s just, well, it's been awhile.”

A smirk came over Emet-Selch’s face, “Who was your last?”

Ophelia’s face turned red, “Is that really appropriate to ask?”

“This is about intimacy, intimacy is about sharing. Jealousy and such emotions are not of my nature.”

“Aymeric,” she whispered, and even lower, “I was close with Hien, but he was too polite.”

“So an Isgardian nobel leader and a prince of Doma?” he raised an eyebrow as she nodded behind her mask, “Between them and the first emperor of Garlemald I believe you have pretty expensive tastes. But remember my pet, I am an eternal being, and I don’t think anyone will ever measure up. I may spoil you where you can never crave a mortal man’s touch again. Are you prepared to continue?”

“Am I allowed to ask you the same? Or is that impolite?”

“No of course not,” Emet-Selch began to think back, his face relaxed in contemplation, “As we are right now, the last time was before the end of Amaurot.”

“You’ve never had sex with another mortal woman?” she looked confused, she knew he had children.

“No not sex, sex is just a primal urge that all living beings feel,” sighing, Emet-Selch took Ophelia’s hands, “This is much, much more. There are rules and duties and protocol. When mortals have sex they are selfish. They worry about their needs, be it the release of orgasm or siring an heir. It’s selfish. This is about intimacy and closeness. By the end of tonight, you will be a new woman, quite possibly with a piece of me to be with you always.”

“I’ve used my magic to stop myself from being able to have children,” she said.

“No no no, I’m not talking about procreation!” his face lit up in amusement, “I’m just saying that when we’re done, you’ll understand.”

“I feel kinda silly sitting here naked wearing only this mask, may I remove it?” Ophelia brought her hands up to her mask.

Emet-Selch met her hands in his own, “No my dear, I have not earned the right to see you without your mask. It will happen when we are finally able to see each other as we are, rather than who we want to be.”

What he said didn’t make much sense to Ophelia. However, she knew that she was going to have to fight against her body’s natural urge to rub on him to satisfy her every itch. Emet-Selch gripped Ophelia by the small of her back and pulled her body into him, biting down her belly. As he held her with one clawed hand, he began to drag his claws down her spine. Ophelia yelped in pain as the claws broke her skin. She felt warm blood begin to drip down her shoulder blades, however she did not care. He knew he was breaking her. Every bite, every scratch, had her tensing up, wanting to writhe in pleasure, yet she fought hard to stay still.

She felt heat on her back as Emet-Selch healed up her wounds, only to open them again. Over and over she felt her body teeter from broken to whole and she loved it. She screamed in ecstasy, happily knowing that no one could hear her. Her breath deepened. All she knew was that she wanted Emet-Selch inside her and nothing else. She wanted to grab him by his Ascian robes, and force herself on him. She wanted to feel him fill her and she fought back every instinct in her body that told her to devour him.

His touch changed. What had been rough, shredding and mending her flesh, turned into soft caressing. Emet-Selch began to softly kiss down Ophelia’s body towards the beautiful glistening slit he sampled earlier. Kissing down he whispered some words. A current of aether began to run between Ophelia’s legs. She felt vibrations pulsing against her clitoris. She couldn’t control herself and she rose up to meet the mysterious aether flowing between her legs. As she rose, Emet-Selch met her with his mouth. He joined in the aether, sucking and nipping at her clit until Ophelia couldn’t hold it anymore. A violent orgasm took hold of her body as she began to convulse hard against his mouth. However, he didn’t stop. Emet-Selch maintained the steady flow of aether, bringing Ophelia to climax once again. Her screams of pleasure filled the space muffled by drapes, however she was certain even people on the Source could have heard her cries.

Emet-Selch, still robed, collapsed next to Ophelia. Holding her tight. “I told you ladies are first and then men come second,” she watched his mouth turn up into a mischievous grin, “now to be a polite lady, this has to be completely about me, and not your own selfish satisfaction.” He raised up and leaned on an elbow, using a clawed hand to pull Ophelia into him, “No selfish satisfaction means you are not to touch yourself or use that pretty little thing between your legs because that would be very rude when you’re supposed to be attending to my needs. Lest you remember, we did this for weeks on end. _ My _ turn could go along for as long as a week. However I know your feeble mortal body wouldn’t last that long.”

Ophelia wasn’t even sure where to begin, but she decided to try kissing him.

“No, no, no woman, kissing is selfish, right now it’s about me,” he looked at Ophelia, cupping his hand in the hair behind her feline ears, pulling her face towards his, “then again, I should want to kiss you as well, damn this mortal body.” His lips lightly brushed hers and she could taste her juices on his face. Smelling her arousal only made things worse, she wanted him inside her. She kissed him back before he pulled away.

Emet-Selch touched a clawed glove to her lips, “Now now my dear, let’s not be greedy.” Ophelia was ready to see what laid under his heavy robes. She began to hurriedly sift through the heavy fabric of his black Ascian robes, eagerly awaiting his erection. However, she wasn’t surprised when he grabbed her by the back of her head, fist full of silvery blue hair, and pulled her out from beneath her robes. He let out a heavy sigh and said with a tone of disappointment, “Oh whatever am I to do with _ you?” _

Claws traced her body from her neck down to her nipples, “You are such a selfish, needy girl. I thought I was going to teach you some manners and show you a more refined way of enjoying the pleasures of the flesh, but you, _ hero _, are impatient. You want things done right away. I suppose that is the way of things when your death could happen at any moment. I guess I ought to indulge you, bring myself down to, what do you mortals call it? Fucking?”

Emet-Selch snapped his fingers and his robes disappeared, leaving both of them still wearing their masks, “Please leave the mask on, if I keep anything of my old ways tonight, I would like to keep that tradition.” Ophelia nodded, although all she wanted was to gaze at his uncovered face. 

“I do have one special gift that I can give you,” Emet-Selch took a single finger and slid it inside Ophelia. He probed, noting how she responded as he touched her, “that should do. One good thing about being an Ascian, and this not being my body I can mold it into what I want, what you want.” With a snap, Ophelia watched his cock change. It doubled in girth and lengthened by an inch, “This should be perfect to make you feel full, but not so much to be distractingly painful.”

Emet-Selch rubbed his cock against Ophelia’s slick entrance. She raised her hips, ready to accept him into her body. He slowly slid inside her, testing each ilm of his length entering her and stretching her. A soft, breathy moan passed Ophelia’s lips, “Emet…”

Hearing his name, he thrust deeply inside Ophelia. For the first time, he was the one to moan. Once again Ophelia moaned his name, “Emet-Selch, fuck me please.”

He smiled, “Well my dear, it would be rude for me to refuse such a polite invitation.” His thrusts became rhythmic, keeping beat to an unheard melody. The only sound was their bodies moving in unison. Ophelia’s moans turned to screams as she climaxed, ripples of euphoria shooting through her body. Emet-Selch continued his tempo, riding the waves of her pleasure until he too felt himself release inside her. 

He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to leave. For a moment, he forgot all about the rejoining and all he wanted at that moment was to be with her always. He knew it was time.

“Hero, let me show you the proper ending to Amaurotine love making,” he stood and offered her his hand. Ophelia reached out, and grabbed his hand as she stood up. Emet-Selch offered a polite bow and she followed.

“Ophelia Belle, Miqo'te, Keeper of the Moon, Warrior of Light, Warrior of Darkness, and” he said the next part with the slightest tone of contempt, “servant of Hydaelyn, do you accept my gift?”

She nodded and did her best to answer him in the same fashion, “Emet-Selch, Ascian, Solus zos Galvus, Emperor of Garlemald, member of the Convocation of 14, servant of Zodiark, do you accept my gift?” She took a step towards him as he raised her mask off her face and guiding her hands to his own. She lifted it up, looking upon his face.

“My face is your gift,” he whispered, “Your face is my gift. May you always remember tonight as you look upon it.” Reaching for Ophelia’s hands, he bent down and gave them each a soft kiss.

“I don’t think I will ever be able to look at you the same,” Ophelia looked at him with wide eyes. 

“Well if you can’t see me as just an evil Ascian anymore, maybe there is hope for us yet. However, hero, do try to have some manners in your daily life.”

With a snap, he was gone.


End file.
